


Awkward Houseguests

by zuzeca



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Crack, Foe Yay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 14:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16599521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuzeca/pseuds/zuzeca
Summary: Leadership brings with it many challenges. Sometimes they involve your subordinates, life-or-death decisions, and battles for the fate of a planet. And sometimes they involve your commander, his nemesis-cum-squeeze, and all their resultant relationship problems. Bumblebee is not paid enough for this.





	Awkward Houseguests

**Author's Note:**

> An older fic from Tumblr which I'm archiving here for the sake of stability. Little crack thing based on some silly, shippy RiD2015 AU ideas that Spaceliquid and I were giggling over. Carries on much more directly from _Transformers: Prime_ , including referencing events which occurred in the episodes "Sick Mind" and "Out of His Head". Disregards a whole chunk of the later episodes and character introductions in RiD2015 since I haven’t watched through them yet. Actually a loose homage to this [completely unrelated X-men fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1693646). Which you should read. Because it is hilarious. Enjoy!

Bumblebee knew of course, that a world in which Optimus Prime walked the corporeal plane was without fail a world in which evil warlords, or aliens, or gods, or demigods if the universe was in a somewhat lazy mood and the writers were out to lunch, showed up around Optimus Prime with the intent to cause trouble. Granted, Optimus Prime’s presence on said corporeal plane was still a matter of some debate, so perhaps Bumblebee could be excused his surprise when two of the four converged on their current location.

Megatronus wasn’t really much of a shock, given the frankly excessive esoteric warnings Bumblebee had been provided. This was not the first battle for the fate of a planet Bumblebee had fought at Optimus’s behest, and somehow he doubted it would be the last. But he hadn’t exactly counted on Megatron showing up to the party, just in time to keep Optimus from getting impaled no less, and bellowing  _ ‘No one kills Optimus Prime but me!’ _ , before punching Megatronus in the face.

It just wasn’t something you expected to see twice in one lifetime.

While Megatron and Optimus standing awkwardly amid the disorganized heaps of the junkyard in the aftermath of said battle for the planet, very carefully not looking at each other, wasn’t something Bumblebee had expected to see once.

“This is really weird,” Sideswipe said, his voice barely more than a low hiss. Bumblebee couldn’t exactly blame him. “Like really, really weird.”

“Understatement,” said Bumblebee.

At last Megatron and Optimus progressed from the awkward not-staring and moved off to stand a short distance away, where they seemed to be bickering in low tones. Over what Bumblebee couldn’t determine, though he did catch Megatron gesturing in his direction emphatically and Optimus looking stony and a touch mulish.

“What are they doing?” said Sideswipe. “And more importantly, should we be thinking about running?”

“I don’t think Optimus would be letting him stick around if we were in any danger,” said Bumblebee. In the back of his processor he could practically hear Ratchet’s snort of derision. Behind them, Grimlock let out a low, rumbling growl. “Maybe we should move…over that way a bit though.”

“A quarter vorn!” Megatron’s voice rose helpfully into the range of their hearing. “A quarter vorn playing your mystical games and you did not see fit to contact me once?”

“Megatron,” said Optimus, sounding as though his patience was wearing thin. “There was not time, the fate of—”

“Quarter. Vorn.”

Optimus scowled. It made him look a great deal less regal than he did generally.

“Come on,” said Bumblebee, gesturing Sideswipe towards their energon stockpile. “Something tells me I’m going to need a drink.”

 

* * *

 

“One thing I don’t get,” said Strongarm, once they were all one sheet to the wind at least, perched on various piles of scrap while they watched Megatron pace back and forth, gesturing wildly. “Megatron hates Optimus Prime. That’s practically his job. Why is he here?”

“Megatron doesn’t hate Optimus,” said Bumblebee, considering the merits of another cube. His processor was starting to fuzz around the edges.

“He doesn’t?” said Strongarm.

“No,” said Bumblebee, deeply weary. “He wants to frag him. Well, again. Rekindle the romance or whatever. Whatever constitutes Megatron’s idea of romance.”

“Gross,” said Sideswipe, an expression of fascinated horror on his face. “How do you even know something like that? You catch them canoodling on the battlefield or something?”

“You,” said Bumblebee, “are disgusting. I know because of…reasons, okay?” He resisted the urge to finger the medical port on the back of his helm. “I’m not going to…go into…just trust me when I say I know what I’m talking about.”

“Wow,” said Sideswipe, sitting back and taking another swig of energon. “Hateboner, who’d have thought?”

“What?” said Bumblebee.

“Hateboner,” repeated Sideswipe loudly, as though Bumblebee were somewhat deaf. “He hates him, but he also wants to—” He made an obscene gesture with his free hand and Bumblebee smacked him.

“I know that,” said Bumblebee. “Why do you know that?”

“Internet,” said Sideswipe, shrugging.

“Figures,” muttered Bumblebee.

“I didn’t know that,” said Strongarm, in a tone which strongly suggested she would have preferred to remain in ignorance.

“Well now you do,” said Sideswipe, and smiled like the smug slagger he was.

Strongarm shot him an irritated look but didn’t rise to the bait. Bumblebee hid a smile and made an absent note to add ‘demonstrates increasing maturity’ to her next performance review. Presuming he still retained his job and was therefore capable of giving performance reviews. Optimus tended not to consider those petty practicalities like career trajectory when he was giving speeches about Destiny. “Optics front,” Bumblebee said, as the bot in question approached, Megatron trailing in his wake, who looked sulky and not a little ridiculous in his Unicron-modified armor.

Bumblebee started to salute, ran a quick diagnostic of his motor relays and thought better of it. “Optimus,” he said, bobbing his helm respectfully and trying to ignore the way the ground pitched slightly.

“Bumblebee,” said Optimus, sounding typically grave. He paused, looking uncomfortable. “I…”

Megatron cleared his throat.

“Megatron and I,” said Optimus, glaring “require shelter for the evening and would appreciate a share of your…” he trailed off, looking at the junkyard “accommodations and perhaps some energon if it can be spared.”

Bumblebee stared. “Er, um, sure.  Oh, I mean we’d have to ask Denny and Russell.” He stopped to consider how this conversation might play out. Hey, Denny and Russell, is it okay if my apparently not-dead commander and the most notorious war criminal our species ever produced stay over for the night? Thanks, you guys are the best.

“Um,” Bumblebee repeated, trying not to stare too obviously at Megatron.

“Megatron has…promised,” said Optimus, as though aware of how absurd this sounded, “to behave himself.”

“Conquering this planet has proved more trouble than it is worth,” said Megatron. He was obviously trying to sound threatening, but it came out petulant.

“Er,” said Bumblebee, “Alright then. I mean, we have energon. How about we just…” Sitting Megatron down next to the stasis pods probably ranked somewhere around holidaying on Quintessa in terms of bad ideas. “Go…over here. I’ll bring some energon. And there’s a TV.”

“Ooh,” said Sideswipe, hopping up and pinwheeling as he tried to keep his balance. “Is it almost six? I think there’s an episode of  _ As the Kitchen Sinks _ on.”

“I am not consuming pitiful organic entertainment,” said Megatron.

“Well I’m not missing finding out whether Elaine’s lover is dead or actually disguised as the dashing rogue that danced with her at the masquerade ball, “ said Sideswipe. “Unless it’s really his twin.”

“Indeed,” said Optimus, in the tone Bumblebee recognized as him trying to be diplomatic when he was at the end of his chain. “Perhaps we could all use a bit of time to decompress. Lead the way, young Sideswipe.”

Sideswipe hurried off, followed by Optimus and the other Autobots. Bumblebee looked at Megatron. “You coming?” he said. “Or are you going to sulk awkwardly in the shadows the whole night?”

Megatron glared. It was the kind of look that usually resulted in leveled planets and damaged property. “I killed you once,” he said. “I can repeat the favor.”

Bumblebee raised an orbital ridge. “Yeah,” he said. “But you won’t.”

Megatron glowered. “Oh? And why is that?”

Bumblebee smirked. “Because it would make Optimus sad. And I know you like to, destroy cities or whatever to get his attention, but unless you feel your victory is at stake, I know, for a fact, that you don’t like to make him sad.”

Megatron drew himself up, that ridiculous plating puffing out like a ruffled cat, but Bumblebee just tapped the back of his helm and Megatron blanched, optics darting.

“Besides,” said Bumblebee, once he was sure his point had been made. “I killed you too. It’s hardly the worst threat you’ve made.” Or made good on, but Bumblebee wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

Megatron did look like he was maybe considering ripping out Bumblebee’s vocalizer again, but potentially flashback-inducing expression aside, Bumblebee found himself struck with a new understanding of Megatron. No longer the boogeyman of his memory, but more like a strange old mechanism with an overly dramatic flair and terrible decision making skills, who had followed Optimus across galaxies because he couldn’t bear to be parted from him.

Factor out Optimus’s breakneck flight, repeated near-death experiences, and the destruction of countless living worlds, and it was almost sweet.

“Come on,” said Bumblebee. “There’s crates to sit on and energon, if a self-proclaimed god still does such prosaic things as refuel.” He indicated the glowing box of the television, around which the others were clustered. “After you.”

Megatron waited just long enough to make it clear he was doing this of his own volition before stalking over to the rest of the group. Optimus looked up as he approached and shifted over on the storage container upon which he was sitting. Except the newly expanded breadth of both their shoulder guards rendered the gesture an impossibility and resulted in Megatron hunkered down on the ground in front of the television set, clutching an energon cube and wearing a disgruntled expression that did not make him look the least bit imposing, while Optimus tried to conceal his longing looks in his direction.

Romance, thought Bumblebee, and joined them.


End file.
